adjusting focus

I've been going through all the things, trying to determine why I have so many things. Know what?  It's way easier to stash a thing it in the corner than to let it go. 

So, in an effort to make all my stuff fit into my 1400 sq ft house with no garage, I'm attempting to follow a trend by determining what brings me joy.  Those are the things I am focusing on. My dining room is currently FULL of every bit of crafting crap I own. 

Last night I grabbed a box of notions and bottle of Glenmorangie lasanta. 

Oh boy. 

That scotch sure brings me joy. Not because of any property of the alcohol.
But the taste. Exquisite. The warm sweet, smooth flavor of a good highland scotch.

I don't drink to get drunk. 
I don't generally drink to get tipsy.
Nine times out of ten I don't drink to push the feelings away.
Ten times out of ten I drink because it brings me joy.

I digress.

As I sorted though the box of notions and ribbons I discovered that some were very easy to set aside. Some were not. 
I love the old silk ribbon. 
What are the stories behind these bits?
Where had it been before I found it?
Was this all that was left after trimming a new dress half a century ago?
Did another woman caress the velvet and choose it for her hat? 

I know. Call me crazy.
Silk embroidery floss. Vintage velvet ribbon. Glass buttons. These bring me joy.
I shall keep them.

Next up is the fabric. I haven't really sewn anything since I moved over a year ago. Mostly because I have too much stuff, too many half done projects, too many things I started and didn't finish.

I like sewing. I like quilting. I like embroidery.  These things bring me joy. 

Time to get it sorted so I can do the things that bring me joy.
Time to make time for the things that bring me joy.
Time to make my house a home. The walls are still mostly bare. There are still things piled everywhere with no homes. Time to decide were the extra sheets will actually be stored. 

This year I have learned so much about myself.

I learned when to relax and have fun.
I learned to not discount my feelings.
I learned not to let important things slide.
I learned that my happiness is not dependent on anyone else's happiness. 
I learned that my Littles just want me to be happy. They smile when I am and worry when I'm not.

Most importantly, I believe these things. 
I don't second guess myself quite so much anymore. 
I discovered that I know I am beautiful. 
My 15-year old stretch marks, my not-so-perky-anymore-rather-small boobs, my I-had three-children hips, and my I-enjoyed-the-sunshine-as-a-child skin. 

I know I really am happier when I wear glitter.
I know I really am happier with pink hair.
I know I really am happier wearing black and grey and shades thereof.

I'm far from perfect. FAR. 
I really don't want to be perfect.
But, I have things about myself I would like improve.
I'd like to finish projects.
I'd like to not be so reclusive and to accept more invites to be social.

I'm working on making my house look the way I want it to.
I'm working on not so much clutter. 
I'm working on losing that last 6 pounds and gaining enough physical strength to spend the day working on the house without sore shaky muscles.

So, it's time to refocus. Time to meander down my path alone and see what's around the next curve.

august again

August.

End of summer.

Back to school. 

Time to stop and look around and see where I’m at.

Seven years ago I was recovering from a hysterectomy.

Five years ago I moved out of the city.

Three years ago I was leaning on my friends, struggling thru everyday in a new reality.

Two years ago I stopped treading water. 

Last year?  

Last year, I sat in the house I purchased myself and happily drank terrible whiskey. I had a conversation.

Tonight I'm sitting in my almost perfect farmhouse with MY new-to-me Jeep in the driveway, drinking 12 year old scotch. Watching Cheers. Happily. Writing again. 

Still missing my six.

Still wishing the world was smaller, or I could travel more.

Life flies by.

My eldest starts high school next month.

My littlest starts middle school.

My boy is taller than I am. 

I enjoy my nine-to-five. 

I found a person who makes me happy - a person who only grunts when he feels my cold feet on him, and pulls me closer in the middle of the night, a person who tells me when I’m being confusing and humors me when I question everything and squirrel from project to project. 

I have a house I bought myself and a line of baby roses that will eventually be a hedge. 

I have family who help every way they can and listen when I feel like talking.

I don’t pretend to know where life is going.  

I can’t tell you where I’ll be next year or who will be next to me. 

I can tell you I am going to grab every moment, happy or not, and live it.

I suggest you do the same.

finding joy and letting it go

Last year, walking away from stage managing was one of the hardest things I had ever done.

Ever.

It’s right up there with my divorce, that’s how much I love stage managing.  But I had to say goodbye.

I willingly walked away. Stage managing isn’t a reliable source of income. With My Littles to feed and house, I need a reliable source of income. So, I found a “normal” job.

This autumn, the opportunity to stage manage presented itself.  Before I accepted the gig, My Littles and I talked about it. We determined we would try it.  It was only six weeks, we can do anything for six weeks.

The show went up, ran, and closed.

For six weeks I was spread super thin. Leaving the house at 7 am and getting home after midnight, most days driving an hour between jobs to spend 20 minutes with My Littles.

It was hard.

Lots of fast food, no laundry, no quiet time.

Very little time with My Littles, my family, my guy.

When I walked away from stage management last year, I had thought part of intense sadness was that I wouldn’t see my friends.  I had made some wonderful close friends when I stage managed.  Going back, none of them were part of this production.  Yeah, I missed them, but I realized that my love of stage managing had nothing to do with those particular people.

I still love stage managing.

I had missed it so much.

So very much.

Way more than I thought I had.

Stepping back into that role made me realize exactly how much I missed it.

It was crazy stressful.

And I loved it.

My heart was full of joy.

Stage managing fills me with joy.

This should be the point where I say I’m going to follow my heart and figure out a way to keep that joy in my life.

But it’s not.  

Sorry to disappoint you, but I’ve got responsibilities, three of them. 

My Littles.

Their happiness is much, much more important to me than my joy. 

They need me to be in their lives daily. 

The need me working a reliable job.

It’s what’s best for them.

And they come first.

Always.

They always come first.

This is not the first time that I’ve found joy.

This is not the first time I’ve let go of a joy because they come first, and it won’t be the last.

Experiencing tiny bits of joy is totally worth the hurt of letting them go.

I willingly, happily, choose to let go.

I happily choose to stay here. 

I happily choose to work a “normal” job. 

I happily choose to do what is best for them. 

Happily.

I never want them to think they’re holding me back from my joy.

They are my joy.

They hold my heart.

They will always be my Littles, long after they’re taller than me.

Always.

But,

the smallest Little will graduate high school in seven years.

So,  

In seven years, I’ll follow my joy.

In seven years, I’ll knock on doors and see who answers.

In seven years, I’ll pack my things and go.

Somewhere.

Until then,

I’ll kiss them goodnight

I’ll help with homework,

I’ll be here, exactly where they need me.

Happily.